Fairytales for Jaded People
by Nidoran Duran
Summary: Disgustingly sweet and snarky Dualrivalshipping first time fic.


"It's supposed to be movie night," I muttered, leaning away a little from Bianca. The blonde had shifted over on the couch and sidled up beside me, such that her shoulder met mine and her hand gripped my tie. Her face entered my peripheral vision, that usual glisten in her eyes that meant only one thing.

"But it's also date night," she said, pulling back a little, and my face came to meet hers. Big mistake. No matter how strong I was as a trainer or a gym leader, Bianca's sad face was too adorable for me to say no to. Her blond hair framed her face, and I still wasn't used to the recent addition of red-framed glasses. The red contrasted with the green of her eyes, making their widening, puppy-dog appearance more noticeable. The corners of her mouth trembled a little as her lips curled into an over-the-top frown. It was all meant to break through my defences of sarcasm and reason by appealing to the part of me that couldn't live with seeing the girl sad.

And damn it, it worked. Of all the traits I tried to stamp out in my 'power is everything' phase, why did this one still linger?

My eyes darted off to the side and I cursed under my breath. "It cost money to rent the movie, though."

Her hands grabbed by arm and she used the grip to pull herself forward again, making a rejected whine. My mind kept telling me it was an act, even though it probably wasn't, if only to justify it to myself. "Can't we pause it, please? It's been on for so long already, I want a break."

I rolled my eyes, and were I not already leaning against the arm of the couch, I would have shifted further away. My free hand pointed to the timer on the DVD player. "It's been twelve minutes."

"Twelve minutes beside you is like forever, though."

"Have you been reading Shauntal's stories again?" I scoffed.

She shook her head and leaned it against my shoulder, closing her eyes. "Can I at least lie like this, then? Against you." Thankfully, the way she lay against me, she couldn't see the red filling into my cheeks. "We're supposed to be dating, remember? This is what couples do."

That softened me a little, and I put a hand around her in surrender. "Right, sorry. I'm just not used to this whole 'touching' thing."

She giggled a little and readjusted herself beneath my arm a little. "After last night, I'd have to say differently."

My eyes tightened and the faint shade of red in my cheeks deepened. "D-did you really have to go there?" I said, thrown off-guard by the comment. My focus on the movie was gone by that point, and only part of it was due to the comment. She was warm against me, and my pulling away was because I knew she'd distract me from the movie. With it a foregone conclusion, I could instead hold her close and apprehensively try my hand at this 'relationship' thing we apparently had.

Well, that's what she called it, and I could find few reasons to argue against calling it that. After all, we were both mushy for each other, had kissed, cuddled, done things together that cranky old people would be angry at kids doing... Really, the only thing keeping me from calling it that was my general aversion to bold emotional statements. Or something. I suck at psychoanalyzing myself.

Although we'd only been 'dating' for the past week, when my vacation started, the relationship had its roots in something from a few years ago. The day I left to begin my gym leader training, somehow, we ended up sharing an awkward kiss.

There was a certain cruelty to that. I'd never had full-on squishy feelings for her before that conversation, and it only hit me when I was on my way out of town for several years. We talked on the phone, but it wasn't enough anymore. This wasn't my pseudo-crush on White, it was something deeper. For the best that my feelings for White never got serious, after she set off to follow the trail of a green-haired manchild in pursuit of love.

It was a relief that, when I returned, I found Bianca carrying the same torch. In that week we spent more time together, inseparable, than we had since we were little kids. There was this whiplash between the two years of longing I'd spent and the seven days of ceaseless cuddling. I didn't know what to think of it all. She was so touchy and cuddly, and I was torn between the gut reaction of distancing myself because I liked distance, or wrapping my arms around her and spending embarrassingly long amounts of time planting soft, quick kisses on her forehead.

Being the jaded, cynical, sarcastic loner I was, I naturally went for the snuggling.

She skittered up the couch a little, positioning herself in front of me, her head leaning back against my shoulder. She'd held on to my arm the whole time, and finally in her preferred place, she let go of it, letting it drape over her. My eyes closed softly and I pulled her a bit tighter against me, no amount of embarrassment enough to stop me from doing so.

The sounds of the movie slowly dimmed in my mind, running as white noise beneath the gentle sound of her breathing against me. She wasn't the girl I remembered as a kid, and I was proud of her for it, having apologized so many times now for all the ditz comments I used to make. How much of it was her growing up versus me growing up was hard to tell. Ugh, where was White to balance the scales and mock me for going soft? When did I stop wanting to snark at her and started wanting to cuddle her?

She fidgeted a little in my arms while I was lost in my reverie, and when I opened my eyes, her face was only an inch from mine, wide in a smile. A sweet little giggle rang in my ear as I gasped in surprise. With my mouth open, she took the opportunity to lean in for a kiss. Any fight I may have had left dissolved when her lips touched mine. My lower lip disappeared between hers and I went limp against the couch.

I was so enamoured by her that I didn't even care about her being the initiator. Everything said that the guy was supposed to be in control, but that just didn't seem right for us. I was reticent and hid behind sarcasm, she exclaimed in joy whenever seeing something remotely cute and ran from one place to another. It was very clear what our dynamic was, and I'd never been one to care too much about things like that. What mattered was that she was in my arms and that she would not let up.

Having lost one of my contacts, I was wearing my glasses again, and I noticed them beginning to fog up a little bit when I opened my eyes. For once, I didn't even care about trying to fix them, instead closing my eyes again and enjoying what I could. That was a romantic sentiment right there.

"Cheren, I like you. Let's just cuddle all night."

"Bianca, I like you. I wouldn't wipe my glasses against my shirt if they got fogged up while we were kissing."

And people say romance is dead.

"C-can we..." She started to speak, only to lose herself in our kiss again. My hands were on her back, pulling her tight against me; the only part of my body that was really doing much, aside from my mouth. "Can we do what we did last night?"

"B-but it's movie night," I responded. Oh right, we were watching a movie. Allegedly.

I opened my eyes just in time to see her grab the remote from the end table beside us, and pressed 'Pause'. "Not anymore."

My parents should have told me at some point that I'd know if I was serious about a girl when she paused a movie I was watching. I should have been outraged, but instead I leaned up to resume our kiss, a happy little sound entering my mouth as she pushed my head back down so it rested on the throw pillow it had been against.

"Well, it would appear movie night is cancelled," I said, my hand resting on her cheek. My ideal night in really was just watching movies together, but I guess Bianca hadn't quite fully grown into patience. To be fair though, I would only be there another few days, and she was always so feely that I guess it was a bit of a waste in her eyes.

"Yeah," she chuckled, "How about that?"

With her leaning on me a little, we just lay awkwardly, smiling at each other, and problems surfaced. My usual thing was snarky inaction, surrendering the wheel to her while I rode shotgun and shot snide comments at things. Problem was, shyness struck her and she locked up a little. Neither of us were going to make the first damn move. Ugh, we were gearing up to be the most awkward couple ever. We weren't doing anything but looking uneasily at each other, and I still wasn't upset about the movie being paused.

In a rare display of initiative, I reached a hand up and pulled off the green beret she wore, which had become lopsided from lying on her side and all the motion her head did in our kiss. Her uneasy expression changed and a smile crept across her lips, reaching for my chest and clumsily undoing one of the buttons on my shirt.

The night before, we had finally gotten to whichever base it was that involved naughty bits. I wasn't a sports guy. All I knew was that I woke with her in my arms and a smile on my face after it was done, and I had no complaints. Being without deriding comment was about as rare as waking up with a smile, and I was hoping to have the same result upon waking the next morning.

When my shirt was mostly undone like one of the guys that showed up on the covers of Shauntal's anthologies-further supporting my theory from earlier-she threw her arms up, helping me as I dragged the white blouse off of her, revealing all of the black tank top she wore beneath it. As she went for my pants next, I skipped undressing her to slide her glasses back up her nose. She was cuter clothed with them on that naked without them.

She was so quick with my pants that, while I was brushing hair out of her blushing face, the original aim of our exercise completely lost, she had taken to getting her own pants off. Damn it. It didn't matter too much though, as she stood up to wiggle out of them and my eyes darted by, watching the sway of her hips. My appreciation made itself known to her, and it was one of the rare occasions in my life where that wasn't a source of embarrassment. I sat straight up as she climbed into my lap, throwing her arms around my neck and throwing her all into a kiss.

With Bianca sitting in my lap with only her tank top and pair of frilly green panties, the whole 'movie night' idea seemed to have been a failure of the best kind. I was there with my shirt falling off my shoulders, my tie undone and lazily hanging onto the collar of my shirt, and my suddenly very tight boxers. Her lips were on mine, a hand in my hair and another on my shoulder. She was pushing me against the couch, which I sank into gladly as she melted in my lap. My hands were on her soft skin, sneaking up the back of her black tank top and feeling her back. For me, it was more contact than was normal, but I didn't even care anymore. Fuck being emotionally distant. Two years of longing, and now Bianca was in my lap, half-dressed and kissing me silly. I could snark in the damn morning.

This time, she was the one fixing my glasses. How did they even get out of place? I was leaning my head up. Of course, the way her lips formed a smile against mine when they were fixed made me wish for them to get uneven again.

"Can we go..." Again, she stopped mid-sentence to go right back into the kissing. She was so adorable and sweet that it killed me. "Can we go lie in bed? It feels weird being in here."

"Oh come on. You have the most spacious couch in the world."

"Yeah, but. We used to sit in here and watch movies when we were kids, remember? And now we're making out and..." She blushed. "I don't want to do 'that' on the couch where we used to sing along with cartoons."

"We never did that," I said plainly.

"Yeah we did. Remember, when the three of us watched Aladdin about four times in one day, and every time a song came on we-"

"That never happened," I repeated. My head pushed up and kissed her before she could finish the recollection. "Yeah, let's go to your bed." Before you recall more embarrassing childhood moments, my inner snarker added, but it didn't make its way to my lips. We were having too much of a good thing going to ruin it with my usual fare.

She brought her hand down from my shoulder, running her fingers down my arm through my shirt, before grabbing my wrist. Now it was just like the old days. She excitedly dragged me by the arm through the house, and if I didn't keep up her frantic pace, I'd lose an arm. Some things never change.

I half-expected her to eschew using doors in favour of running straight through the wall and leaving a Bianca silhouette in it like the cartoon character she sometimes lapsed into. Instead, she flung the door to her bedroom open on the way and hardly broke pace, resulting in both of us taking a big tumble onto her bed. Somehow, in the tangled mess we ended up in, I was actually beneath her, despite her hitting the bed first.

I didn't question how it worked or if she just took the fall better and climbed on top of me, because as we disentangled our limbs, her lips met mine again. The big pink pillow my bed sank into felt so much better than the arm of any couch.

"Maybe you should close the door," I said reluctantly, seeing that it was wide open out the corner of my eye. Her parents weren't due home until very late that night, but I didn't want to take risks.

She frowned a little, pulling up from the kiss and grabbing my face with both hands, which conveniently hid all of my blushing. "But it's so far away. And you're right here. Why don't you close it?"

"Because you're on me."

She chuckled a little, dragging a finger down and circling it around my neck. "So? You're a big, strong man, you can probably carry me over there and close the door."

"This is me. You know that right? White used to make me stop being mean to you by sitting on me and making me promise to stop."

She laughed teasingly and kissed me again. "Okay, fine." Pulling up off of me, she got up and walked toward the door. My eyes fell on her hips and her rear, framed perfectly in her panties, and I instinctively reached to where my tie would have been for me to tug on, only to find it not there. I moved up the bed a little so that I sat upright, not too inclined to tear my eyes away, until she came back. Then, my eyes fell on her smiling face. I didn't even care how smitten I was with her at that point.

My arm reached out, and she graciously accepted it, giving me a nod as she got onto the bed, getting on all fours over my body and giving me a kiss. One of her hands was on my cheek, and the other was clumsily at the waistband of my boxers. My waist jerked a little to the side when her finger brushed against my erection through the fabric, and I pushed deeper into the kiss. My own hand, with even more clumsiness, reached under her and felt around her hip. I was so off the mark it was embarrassing, but honestly, with Bianca I don't think I could have made a fool out of myself if I tried. That sort of comfort was incredibly relieving, actually.

Eventually, with my fingers dragging along the frilly trim at the band of her panties, I got things a bit easier. With my palm and fingers flat against her body, they started to push beneath the band. Her mound was already just the slightest moist, and the feeling of my fingers brushing against it made her hips roll a little.

My composure was far, far worse though, and I was very glad I was the one supported fully by the bed. She had fished it out of my boxers, and the feeling of her soft fingers wrapped around it, beginning to move up and down, was driving me mad. Her hands were so damn soft and I had no idea why. It killed me that I was fooling around with Bianca on a bed and somehow what hand lotion she used was something I was legitimately hung up on. What was wrong with me?

After rubbing her slit for as long as I felt I could bring myself to without doing more, my middle finger curled and pressed into her. The rubbing motion remained, my palm pressed to her clit, my ring and index fingers rubbing her labia softly. She shuddered against me as I felt her slick walls, and she began to rock her hips a little.

I wished I'd seen it sooner, wished we had done this before I shipped off for two years, wished I had taken Juniper's offer to also be a lab assistant. Anything that would have meant this wasn't a new thing. Every cute sound she made in my mouth as I fingered her was the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard, and the way she held onto my face would be sure to leave a longing feeling in every nerve she set off when I left.

"Oh, Cheren," she whimpered, nuzzling my neck, pressing her upper body against mine. My free hand reached at the hem of her panties and pulled them down, freeing my hand and giving it far more mobility. It dragged back up, my fingertips taking them time with the curve of her ass and her hips, before reaching up her tank top. It pulled the shirt up a little as it clumsily tried to work the clasp on her bra.

I wasn't qualified for any of this. Trying to undo her bra while fingering her required the sort of focus and skill of a season surgeon. All I could do was bark orders at animals and be witty. The added complication of the hand in my lap working me over a little faster every time she finished coming up for air made it nigh impossible. I tried to get the finger in deeper to compensate, to distract her from it all, and it failed miserably.

She chuckled sweetly, leaning up to kiss at my cheek just in front of the ear. "Come on," she said softly. "I know you can do it."

"Y-you're enjoying watching me sweat, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Sucks being on the other end of it for once, doesn't it?"

"Juniper is a horrible influence," I muttered. "Ugh, who made this thing and what do they have against me?"

A few sweet giggles rang in my ear, and I let out a sudden, surprised gasp as her hand moved faster. My eyes shut tightly and I cursed audibly, her hand rocking along my shaft rapidly, her thumb sticking up and rubbing tip of my underside, where the glans and foreskin met, and I jerked up against her hand in surprise. "You're fucking with me," I groaned, sinking another finger into her and trying to match the pace.

"Oh, totally." She planted some kisses on my neck, and it was my turn to whimper a little. "Come on, you can do it. Undo the bra, and I promise I'll do something even better for you than use my hand."

Damn. Damn it. This was upsetting the natural order! Bianca was not only the one doing the mocking, but actually taking control of a situation and being sly. I had no idea what had gotten into her, but I endeavoured to stop it at once. My thumb pressed to her sensitive nub and started to work it over, two fingers pumping into her, and the other hand giving up entirely on her bra. The shirt was still dishevelled when I pulled it away and instead placed the hand on her hip. My head moved around awkwardly until I finally caught her lips and pulled her into a kiss, which she obliged.

The colour filling into her cheeks and the low whine she made told me that good old peppy-but-shy Bianca was back. Of course, the pace at which she stroked me continued, but that was one thing that I had zero complaints about. Well, except maybe that the faster she went, reason stood, the less time I could enjoy it before cumming. That was sort of a downer, but I didn't care. I could always just cuddle her until my refractory period ended. Really, anything that involved holding her close was a win for me.

As she grew wetter, my fingers started to get a bit sticky and it trickled down my hand, but I didn't care. I kept on with her treatment and just let her invade my mouth with her tongue. It was the greatest thing I could think of, though admittedly my memory was fogging up a bit in terms of things that weren't the immediate. Or, that was just my glasses. Probably both.

"Can we try something new?" she asked breathlessly, finally able to break a kiss long enough to ask a question her first time.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked. It was supposed to come out playful and coy, I think, but I wasn't able to keep it up like she could. Instead, it was a legitimate question, as I could hardly think of anything better than what we were already doing. To punctuate that point, I sank another finger into her and really put some effort into it. Every finger worked like parts of a machine, moving with precision throughout.

She made this adorable sound that I couldn't even think of a word for, her hand leaving my penis to grab at my wrist. Her legs tightened a little around it and her face went redder than mine-it was about time. "I-I want to-oh, please! This is so good, I need to..." She trailed off, burying her head in my neck again. "I wanted to try oral sex!"

Had any other girl been that loud about anything I would have stopped, but loud was typical for Bianca, and it had never been so wonderful to hear as it was when my fingers induced the reaction. It meant I got to her. It meant I had succeeded. Her body started to grind a little, her thigh right up against my penis and providing it with minor sensation to tide me over. I didn't even care that she wasn't masturbating me anymore, because watching her just fall apart and buck against my fingers, looking cute in ways that even she rarely achieved, was just so satisfying in and of itself.

She breathed hotly into my neck, pressing so hard into it that I would have pushed her away in any other context. "Please, it's enough I... I can't take this any more. I'm going to... You need to get off to and..." She couldn't finish her sentences any more, and each one ended abruptly in a moan and started a new train of thought.

Something in my head told me to keep it up, to keep her in this elated state for as long as possible. Even as she tried to pull my hand away, repeating that she didn't want to orgasm before I did, that she wanted me to feel good too, I kept on going. Her words became looser in their definition as 'words' and her attempts to pull my hand away grew weaker and weaker until finally she stopped.

Her hips kept moving against my hand and she surrendered to it. She clutched at my chest and planted a flurry of kisses on my neck. Intermittent moans rang like music to my ears as I worked her over, a regular rhythm going. I pressed on into her core as her slick inner walls hugged my fingers tightly. All I wanted to do was bring her to release, to feel her writhe atop me and try to silence her increasingly loud moans by kissing me deeper than she ever had before. The night before had been practice, and now I knew just how to make her squirm.

A load moan coincided with a sudden trickle of her juices, more than there had been before, and she pressed herself hard against me. Her legs clenched so tightly together that I feared my hand would be severed. My thumb kept rubbing at her clit as she stopped using words altogether and merely made happy sounds into my mouth. The trickling eventually led to some of it dripping down my shaft, which, with her finally satisfied, began to make its neglect painfully known to me.

"Now," she said, her voice shaking a little, like she still wasn't entirely sure of what she was doing. "L-let me do something for you." Her usual spirit shone right through; she was uncertain as hell, but that wasn't going to stop her from just closing her eyes and running with it. She adjusted her glasses and smiled up at me.

"I wouldn't think of saying no," I said, giving her a smile back, though it wasn't the same. Her smiles were big, infectious, and belonged on greeting cards. Mine were understated, seemed forced, and belonged on hammy cartoon villains. But hey, she forgot about the bra thing, so I wasn't going to complain.

She closed her eyes and nodded frantically, clutching at my sides on the way down. I couldn't tell if it was giddiness or rapid-fire rationalizations. Eventually though, she managed to be lying prone on the bed, her hand gripping my base and her eyes looking up at me with a mix of shyness and wonderment. I was certain it wasn't anything to do with my size, but instead how she perceived it all as this magical, romantic moment.

"You don't have to," I said softly, reaching down and brushing some hair out of her face. "I'd be perfectly happy kissing you instead." Ugh, that was such a cheesy line I wanted to hang myself and blame Shauntal for ruining my life with her writing. It was better than sarcasm though.

"No, I want to." She took a deep breath, her eyes shutting tightly, like she was trying her hardest to keep them closed, and her hip dipped forward. She planted a kiss on my tip and let it hang there for some length of time. I wasn't sure exactly how long, but it was likely far shorter than it seemed. Maybe she was waiting to see if anything horrible happened, but when only awkward silence followed, she breath a sigh of relief. Her wet, warm breath made me wriggle beneath her like I was someone with far less composure and dignity than I tried to convince myself I had.

She opened her mouth and ventured a lick, haphazard, though with more confidence than she'd shown the last few moments. Another lick, this one fresh after the first one instead of an eon later. Then another, and my fingers were on her shoulder. A fourth, longer than the others, and I was reached beneath the straps of her tank top and bra to feel what skin lay beneath them that I hadn't yet touched.

The very first time I ever liked her lips closing together and her smile shrinking was that moment. I shivered a bit as I felt her lips wrap around my tip. The hand on her shoulder held on a little tighter, and the other clutched at the bed harder than anyone had an excuse to grab at anything.

"Ah, Bianca," I said with the sort of sincerity I rarely reserved even for those close to me. I tried to hold still to such little avail that there was little point in even trying. Her green eyes looked up at me, sparkling in ways reserved only for fairy tales. Oh hell, this was a fairy tale for her, wasn't it? My insufferable inner monologue didn't even bring up some mocking comment about fairytales usually not involving two teenagers and a blowjob during movie night, but the voice had shut up. What wonders had this girl spun that the asshole in the dunce cap that lived in my head and had a remark for everyone and everything was silenced?

Fuck, this was becoming a fairy tale for me too. Or, whatever counted as fairy tales for jaded people.

Bianca was always replacing confidence with gusto, throwing herself into everything before she had time to think about it and turn against it. It stood in stark contrast to my long, hard thinking sessions and rapid-fire rationalizations for why I shouldn't do something that often spat in the face of common sense. Nowhere was it more obvious that there, lying in front of me, and hiding every bit of her uncertainty beneath doe-eyed excitement. Worries about if I wasn't enjoying it like I should or if I was just being stoic didn't even cross her thoughts as she lost herself in the moment. Some daydream reality where this was true love and I didn't even know a better touch so all that mattered was that she tried and I blushed.

Maybe. I could have been over-analyzing.

I wouldn't be the first to call myself a connoisseur of any kind, and it may have just been the inexperience talking, but damn. She was obviously experimenting, but all of that time spent talking clearly paid off, it seemed. She knew how to use her mouth, and with her gaze hard on me, she could gauge how much I enjoyed any little thing she tried. Keeping pace with her hand, she improvised on top of it and-oh hell, this was a blowjob, not a free-form jazz odyssey. Shut up, Cheren.

She dragged her tongue up my underside, pulling her head up and looking at me. "Are you..." Her face grew so red I could practically feel the heat come off of it, and it was so cute and almost had to look away for fear of going blind. "Does this feel good?"

I squeezed her shoulder a little and nodded with more enthusiasm than I'd given anything in the longest time. "It does. Thank you Bianca, it felt great."

She giggled, tilting her head to the left. "Who said I was done?" Her head tipped back down and she sank her head down my shaft again, the corners of her lips curved up into a smile more cunning than I felt comfortable with. Whatever doubt she had left about her actions was buried beneath an act too good for me to crack. My mind started to offer possibilites about me just believing that, but I smacked them down. No more philosophizing, my girlfriend was putting her all into making me feel good and I was going to roll with it.

Her head bobbed, her soft lips dragging along my skin, hand moving quickly along the base. All I could do was lie there and make appreciative sounds whenever she really got to me, and hold on to her milky shoulder for dear life. There was some deep, primal urge to push my hips up, but I fought it back, letting her do what she wanted. Besides, such an action would almost make me the dominant one, and that just seemed wrong.

A loud smack of her lips was followed by a soft laugh as she licked the tip, never once breaking eye contact with me. I wouldn't dare break it either, as there was something so thrilling about watching her do it, watching her eyes glimmer with overwhelming joy. This was as much her fairy tale as mine, and I wasn't going to find a way to ruin it for all. Yeah, that was my answer; this blowjob was for her, too, and I was too far gone to care about how lame an excuse that was.

She drew her head up again, giving my tip a loud kiss to seal it. "I want to continue but..." She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "C-can we go all the way? Please?"

Even after what we'd done, the question took me aback. I gasped a little. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

She skittered up my body a little and kissed me on the cheek. "I do. I think I'm ready now. Always hoped it would be you..." She grabbed the hand from my shoulder and clasped it between two of hers. "And here, on my bed. So romantic."

"I always figured my first time would be in the backseat of an old car, and I'd end up missing and accidentally penetrating a hole in the upholstery. Lose my virginity to a Toyota Corsola."

Her head tilted to the side and she stared at me strangely for a second, before rolling her eyes and giving me a soft kiss on the lips. "I'm serious," she said with a certain sternness that her voice rarely had. "You won't be around much longer before you go back, and this could be our only chance for a long time."

"But, it's a big deal," I said. "I'm ready, but I don't want you to jump into something just because you think you won't get another chance to. I'll come back for you, Bianca. I promise, there won't be another girl, you don't need to-"

She made a loud sound that was like a sigh but obviously meant to cut me off. "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"That thing where you try to make excuses not to do something because you can't think of a good reason not to."

I leaned up and gave her a peck, my free hand resting on the side of her hot, red cheek. "For once, I'm not. I'm saying this because I do want you to think it through."

Her eyes widened and she made a happy little sound. "You were thinking of me? Oh, you're so sweet! "

I darted my gaze to the side, and unfortunately it was instead trapped in the resulting cleavage of her shoulders squeezing in and her position atop me making it clear. That only made me blush harder. "Come on, you don't need to kill the mood."

"I knew offering it to you was a good idea. You really do care, it's just buried under all that scowly stuff."

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Totally."

Something boiled up in me, and without knowing what I was doing, I pushed up against her, knocking both of us back a little. She was poised in my lap, my erection against her midsection, legs around my hips, and her body pitched back at an angle. For once, I was almost sort of on top of her, my mouth descending hungrily on hers. It was the sort of intense outburst that was so atypical of me that it threw her off. The way I touched her was so aggressive and physical, too.

My hands found her bra clasp, and without any distractions, undid it with ease. A smug comment would have followed had I not been so eager to kiss her. With her bra still on, my hands started to pull up the hem of her tank top, although it reached a dead stop when it wouldn't advance any more without our kiss breaking. Her hands were in my hair and on my back, and it was the sort of physicality that seemed so alien that I may have been having an out-of-body experience and just not realizing it.

In the end, it was she who broke the kiss, leaning back, as my hands tugged up, having been poised in anticipation. Her shirt went, and while I tossed it aside she got her green bra off, throwing it carelessly in some direction that I didn't even care about. We were finally both naked, and with our bodies pressed so tightly together, it was a wonderful thing.

When I pulled back at last, she lay beside me, both of us on our sides and kissing with the sort of embrassing sweetness that I had thought was beneath me until recently. Our hands wandered across each others' bodies, eagerly exploring.

"So, uh. Sex." I tried to be aloof about it, but it was so difficult that I dropped the attempt halfway through.

"Sex," she repeated with some sweet laughter. "What about it?"

"Well, how are we going to do it? There's so many different ways that we could go about it. It's all rather dizzying, really. All those positions and-"

She cut me off with her lips again, her hand on my upward-pointed shoulder and pushing it down against the bed. She pulled her body atop me, holding onto my cheeks to keep me right there kissing her while she positioned herself atop me. "Remember what you said earlier, about not killing the mood?"

"Y-yeah," I stammered as she fixed my glasses.

"Well stop talking so you don't do that." She kissed me again, positioning herself in my lap eagerly. Why couldn't I be as confident about this as she was? "So why don't you just lie down and let me take care of everything?"

"Sure thing."

She moved around clumsily, reaching down to grab my shaft and get it to cooperate as her hips shifted around to try and align things better. My tip dragged a few times against her soft, wet entrance, now even more so than when she'd orgasmed on my hand earlier. The sensation made me twist a little, which didn't help proceedings and in fact produced more of that wonderful friction. A cruel cycle.

If I lost it before I even got it inside of her, I would commit ritual suicide upon getting home.

Eventually, she got around the problem, and sank down maybe an inch, moaning hotly into my mouth as she did so. I did much the same, as even what little penetration we'd accomplished felt incredible. Her core was sopping wet, warm, and so tight around me that it was unlike any pleasures I'd ever felt before.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," she said, her voice trembling in a way that was definitely not okay. Her face went into my shoulder and I could hear her draw in a deep breath. "I'll be fine, just give me some time."

"All the time in the world," I said, wrapping my arms around her and kissing her cheek as she tried to get used to what was already inside of her. I was being so supportive and sweet, and it felt so wrong in so many ways, but I didn't feel bad about it at all.

A little further she went, and I groaned out in surprise. Her body was so warm against mine, on the verge of trembling, and nothing could make this any more magical. Fuck shame, fuck pretence of being aloof and too cool for any of this. We were going to make love and it was going to be every bit as wonderful and fairy tale as she wanted it to be.

Oh hell, it was a fairy tale. No amount of cynicism could break through it now. I wouldn't have done this with any other girl, felt these emotions with anyone else. She brought out the sweet I had buried beneath all the sour with that damn smile. Her infectious joy got to me, and a smile broke, wider than ever before.

"You're smiling," she said happily. She moved down, and though there was a struggle in her eyes, no wince broke her gleeful expression. "Oh, this is just what I hoped for all this time."

"It is for me too," I said. It may not have been true for the past two years, but it was truer now than anything I'd ever said. Her pelvis met mine, all of me buried in her, and the shakiness in her breath started to fade. She was slowly overcoming it all, and was ready for this. I brushed some hair out of her face and kissed her on the cheek. "Are you ready?"

She nodded, pressed her hands to my shoulders and beginning to lift back up, coming down slowly. No, I take back what I said about her not growing into patience. The way she moved so slowly atop me proved that. She was taking it slow, feeling things out, making sure nothing went wrong. She could be patient when she had to, but chose not to. Just like I could be sweet when I had to, but chose not to, I guessed.

"It's starting to feel good," she said, her head tilting as she offered her lips to me again, and I accepted. The feeling was intense, and I feared being too loud. Her lips soothed that worry. She was so tight and slick around me, in ways my hand never could have been; not even getting into all the other parts of this that my hand never provided. Her breasts against my bare chest, every breath making them rise and fall gently against my skin. The way she got her finger in my hand and twisted the stubborn locks that always stood up. The way every soft breath she made fluttered against me and sounded like the most beautiful sound in the world.

How was I supposed to go back to my hand when this was all over? It wasn't enough to make me regret any of this, especially as she started to go faster and my body cried out in the sort of triumph reserved for the victorious underdog in a movie. If anything, it made the moment sweeter; this wasn't forever, and in a few days it would be there for me to long for. Instead of living in the future. I enjoyed the moment even more, taking in everything.

She grew more confident, and as the last of the pain seemed to leave her, she pushed off of my shoulder. I looked up with surprise as she repositioned herself so that she sat in my lap. What I lost in the warm feeling clutching at my chest, I more than gained in taking in the sight of her. Her breasts rose and fell in time with her breasts before my eyes. Her blushing face, glasses slightly off-kilter, looked down on me, framed by her blonde hair and looking beautiful.

Her hands went back onto my chest, and there was a desperation to how they held me, not just for balance but because she needed to feel me. She probably knew how fleeting it was as well, and didn't want to let me go. I let her.

She began to move in my lap, clumsily but clearly with some idea of what she was doing. It made me groan, my shoulders pushing against the bed and my back arching up toward her. She must have had a plan going into this and some loose idea of how to do it. Possibly Juniper's meddling, again. I wasn't complaining.

"Keep going," I said, encouraging her. "You're doing great, Bianca. I hope this feels as good for you, too."

"It does," she said happily, her head dipping a little. "Can you touch my breasts, though? Th-they're really sensitive, and-" Her words cut off into a moan as, without even waiting for her explanation, I reached up and grasped them, my palms grinding against her nipples. She wriggled a little and came down prematurely, though she seemed fine. "Oh, that feels so good!"

The grip on my chest tightened, her fingers hard against my chest, likely to leave their impression in them once they lifted, but I didn't stop it. It wasn't painful, and spoke volumes about what she felt, something I wanted to know very much. Every glance into her thoughts made me fall deeper into this wonderful place my head journeyed to. It was only us; nothing else mattered or existed. Corny, I know, but there was no worry about her dad kicking my ass for this or anything. Just us, our love, and the sensations we were enthralled in.

One of the hands left my chest, and she leaned forward a little, bringing one of the hands between her legs. As she rose and fell on me, she began to rub her clit, and holy hell did that get her going. Her back arched, head and shoulders both reaching up as a shaky, loud moan tore out. Well, that answered whether or not she was enjoying it as much as I was. With me inside of her, my hands working her breasts to some degree of efficacy, and her hand now going at her clit with much more knowledge of it than I would have been, she was far better off.

"I'm close," she moaned, her coming back down, the front locks of her hair brushing my arms a little.

"So am I," I responded, writhing beneath her without a care in the world. Well, except one. "But, where should I..."

"It's okay," she said with a smile, fixing her glasses. "It's a safe time, I looked into it. You can do it inside of me. I-I want you to." There was a passion to her voice, a vulnerability, a baring of herself that drove me wild. She was giving herself to me, wholly, and none of it felt like some misguided, gut reaction that was called love but wasn't really. This was something deep, something real.

She came first. Just my luck, I guess. She tensed up against me, her hips moving quickly now, so tight and so wonderful. In fact, she seemed to grow tighter as her orgasm crashed against her. Words and sounds spilled out of her mouth in sweet, frantic breaths. As my lap got considerably stickier, I followed, my hips bucking up against hers. My orgasm was far more subtle and understated, merely a tensing and grip on her breasts as I came inside of her, just like she asked.

Hers seemed a bit more drawn out than mine too, and as my penis twitched inside of her in after-shocks that made me fidget a little, she came down to lie on me again.

Our kiss wasn't as intense as it would have been a moment earlier. We weren't tired, but after all that, all that we needed a soft, still kiss. No opening of mouths or squeezing her hand. I just wrapped my arms around her and lay there beneath her lips.

Eventually, she rolled off of me and we lay sideways, looking at each other, still giving soft little kisses.

"I love you."

My eyes widened as I realized that I was the one who said it. It seemed that the sarcastic prick living in my head was also the one that filtered things out and thought about what I was going to say before I said them. Never thought I'd be the one to drop that bombshell first.

There was no hesitation in her reply. The moment the words registered with her, she made a happy squeal that was more like the Bianca I knew than most of what we'd just done. "IloveyoutooCheren!" she said rapidly, pushing my shoulder down as she went for a far more intense and heavy kiss.

Was I the only one who'd actually changed much in all of that? Her hand-the one previously on my chest, not the sticky one-found mine and clasped it tightly. There was no doubt between either of us as to whether we meant it.

Ugh, I'd gone all soft and mushy now. And maybe it was the way she held onto me, or the fact she was kissing me so much that breath was scarce and I was getting a bit dizzy, but that didn't quite bother me.


End file.
